Dead End
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: Set just before and during the events of "Batman: Arkham Asylum," a guard named Frank Boles learns the penalty for flirting with Harley Quinn. This was a request and a surprise birthday present for my dear fan, blackcat9517, whose support has been invaluable to me, from her sister, nadd. A very Happy Birthday to you! :-)


**Dead End**

Frank Boles took a swig of bourbon from his flask as he watched the Bat and the Clown approach him down the long corridor of Arkham Asylum's Intensive Treatment wing. His hands didn't even shake, even though he was certainly nervous, but he thanked the liquid courage for that. This could all go horribly wrong, unless he trusted the Clown. And that was usually a mistake. Still, it wasn't like he had a choice. And he also thought about his reward, which made him grin slightly.

He was brought back to reality as the Clown asked him if he had missed him. Showtime. "Shut it, Clown!" he growled, grabbing the Joker by the collar. "A lotta people here really wanna talk to you!"

He slammed the Joker into the portable, full-body restraint, secured the locks, and began dragging him down the hall, with Batman following them. Straight into the trap, thought Boles, although Batman didn't know it. Nobody knew it. Every guard in here was gonna be slaughtered, assuming it all went to plan. Every guard except Frank Boles.

Frank was a terrible security guard. A few years ago, he had been drunk on the job, and had fallen asleep. His neglect had allowed the Joker to escape from Arkham once again. After Batman had brought him back, an inquiry into the situation was conducted, during which the Joker had been questioned. To Frank's relief, the Joker didn't implicate him. When Frank asked him why, the Joker just tapped his nose, grinned his creepy smile, and said, "A favor for a favor, eh, Frankie?"

Despite this, it was still a surprise to Frank one night several weeks ago, when he had been pulling the graveyard shift alone, when Harley Quinn suddenly appeared in the corridor, grinned at him, and said, "Mr. J wants to see you."

"Oh…yeah?" Frank asked, warily. "What about?"

"You'll see," she said, beckoning him. "C'mon. Don't wanna keep puddin' waiting."

Frank wondered why she called the Joker that stupid name. Hell, he wondered what an attractive broad like Harley was doing wasting her time with that maniac. As he followed her down the corridor, his eyes were fixed on her pretty ass, shamefully hidden in that unflattering inmate uniform. The Joker was a lucky man.

"I think you got the key to get in," said Harley, turning to smile at him as they arrived in front of the Joker's cell.

"Yeah, I do," agreed Frank. "What'll you give me for it?"

"What do you mean?" asked Harley, confused.

"I mean what'll you give me for it," he repeated. "How about a kiss?"

Harley laughed. "Aw, Frankie, you're such a kidder!" she giggled. "The girls must really go for you, huh? I know I love a guy who can make me laugh."

It wasn't a kiss, but a little flirtation certainly wasn't bad, thought Frank, as he swiped the keycard, unlocking the cell door. "Thanks, Frankie – c'mon in!" Harley exclaimed, bouncing into the cell and over to the man lying on the bed.

"Harley, you little minx, it's about time," said the Joker, as she began cooing over him. "Where have you been?"

"Getting Frankie, like you asked, puddin'," she purred. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting – I've been a bad girl, haven't I? You wanna spank your bad girl?"

"Business first, pooh bear," he said, patting her head. She whined in protest, but began massaging his shoulders. Frank watched enviously.

"So, Frankie, you remember that little favor I did ya a few years back?" asked the Joker, grinning at him.

"Yes, sir, I remember," muttered Frank. "You wanna call it in?"

Joker laughed. "Ya got such a frank way of putting things, Frankie!" he chuckled. "Must be where your name comes from."

Harley giggled, kissing him. Frank didn't even think it was a very good joke, but he stayed quiet. You didn't tell the Joker his jokes weren't funny. You didn't if you wanted to stay alive, anyway.

"But yes, my good man, I do wanna call it in, as you so aptly put it," said the Joker. "I wanna…oh, Harley!" he gasped, shutting his eyes in pleasure. "Little lower and you…oh, baby, yes, right there!" He sighed. "Sorry for the interruption, Frankie, but the doll's a genius with her hands. Too bad she ain't a genius with her mind, but a guy can't have everything," he said, shrugging. "Anyway, I'm planning on busting outta here in a few weeks…"

"And you want my help?" asked Frank.

"Don't interrupt me, Frankie," said the Joker, grinning, but there was a dangerous undertone in his voice. "When I'm talking, your mouth is shut, all right?"

Frank nodded. "Good. Wouldn't want your mouth to get you into trouble someday, would we?" asked the Joker lightly.

Frank shook his head. "As I was saying, I'm planning on busting outta here in a few weeks," continued the Joker. "I've already got that all arranged, but what I'm really looking forward to is the big surprise I wanna plan for Batsy when he brings me back here. Thanks to the handy little fire in Blackgate, all my goons are in one place for once, and so we have enough guys in here to throw a proper party. Which brings me to your part in all this," he said, smiling at him. "You're…well, we won't say liked, will we? I'm not a liar. But we will say you're trusted. Your fellow guards will believe anything you say. No one would suspect you as a traitor in their midst, would they?"

Frank assumed he could answer, being asked a direct question. "You saying you want me to…ah…betray my coworkers?"

"Betray's an ugly word," said Joker, frowning. "How about you just tell yourself you're switching sides? Joining the winning team, as it were. The pay is better, trust me, and the rewards are simply unimaginable!"

"Yeah? What kinda rewards?" asked Frank, glancing at Harley.

"Why, the spreading of smiles, joy, and laughter, of course!" exclaimed the Joker, beaming. "What greater reward is there than that? And you could be a part of that, Frankie! What do ya say?"

Frank cleared his throat. "I do owe you…sir," he said, slowly. "But this is a pretty big favor, and I can't help but think that…well, I'd like to really be rewarded for helping you."

"Of course, Frankie, anything I have to give!" said the Joker, beaming.

"Really? Anything?" asked Frank, glancing at Harley again.

"Well, within reason," retorted the Joker, shrugging. "I won't cancel my party plans or anything…"

"Harley," interrupted Frank. "I want Harley."

Joker stared at him. So did Harley. "You…want Harley?" repeated the Joker, lightly. Then he burst out laughing. "Well, that's a first!" he chuckled. "Nobody's ever _wanted _Harley, not even me, have I, pooh?" he asked, turning to her.

"Gotta say, Frankie, I'm flattered," said Harley, grinning. "But really, I think you'd be pretty disappointed in little old me. Mr. J says I got the sexual skills of a walrus, whatever that means."

"You ever seen a walrus, Frankie?" asked Joker. "Just lying there on their backs, flopping around…"

"And anyway, ain't you married?" asked Harley.

"I _am _married," agreed Frank. "But the way I see it, as long as I'm switching sides, I might as well switch a few other things."

Joker smiled. "Now that's the spirit!" he said, beaming as he turned to Harley. "What do you say, pooh?"

"Well, Mr. J, you know I ain't the kinda girl who would ever consider being anyone else's pooh," said Harley, kissing him. "But if you really need Frankie to help you out, I'll see what kinda favors I can do for him. Not making any promises, but if he's a very good boy for you, I'll be a very bad girl for him," she breathed, smiling at him.

"So we got a deal, huh, Frankie?" asked the Joker, grinning and holding out his hand.

Frank Boles smiled. "Deal," he said, giving Joker a firm handshake.

"Good. Back to your post now, and wait for further instructions," said the Joker, lying back as Harley continued to massage him.

Frank flashed them both a smile and then left the cell.

The moment he left, both Joker and Harley's smiles fell. "What kinda gal does he think I am?" muttered Harley, rubbing Joker's back harder than was strictly necessary. "And he must think you don't care about me at all, if you're willing to lease me out like that to just anyone. Especially a gorilla like that. Ick," she said, making a face.

"Well, you will play along, won't you, pumpkin pie?" asked Joker. "Just until he outlives his usefulness, of course."

"Oh sure, I'll play along," snapped Harley. "Just how far do you want the game to go, puddin'? Should I kiss him? Sleep with him a couple times, maybe?"

"Harley, don't be stupid," growled Joker. "Just flirt with him a little when necessary."

"Flirt with him?!" repeated Harley, furiously. "What kinda gal do _you _take me for, Mr. J?! I don't just flirt with random guys!"

"You do when I tell you to!" he shouted, rounding on her.

She glared at him. "You don't care about me at all, do you?" she demanded. "You can't, if you're comfortable with me acting all lovey dovey with Frank Boles, of all people…"

"I don't understand why you're making such a big deal outta this!" interrupted the Joker. "It's not like I'm asking you to sleep with him, or even kill him, anything that would take any kinda effort! I just think it wouldn't be too difficult of you to encourage him a little, and keep him keen and eager to help me! It would make the punchline so much sweeter, trust me, kiddo!"

Harley folded her arms across her chest. "All right," she murmured. "I'll do it. I'll flirt with the guy. And we'll see how you like it, you selfish, ungrateful, cruel monster!"

She stormed out of the cell. Joker snorted, lying back down. "Dames. They all belong in the nuthouse."

At breakfast the next day, Frank Boles was patrolling along the cafeteria table, when Harley suddenly dropped her napkin. Frank bent to pick it up, and so did Harley. "Oh…thanks, Frankie," she said, looking up at him and smiling, their faces inches apart. She pinched his cheek. "Ain't you a sweet guy?" she breathed.

The Joker watched the exchange calmly, his usual smile looking a little forced. "No…no problem," stammered Frank.

"I was wondering if you and me could have a little word in private later, if you ain't too busy," purred Harley, sliding her hand on his shoulder. "Say two o'clock in the janitor's closet?"

"No, that's no good, Harley," said Joker loudly. "You got therapy at two."

"Oh yeah," said Harley. "Three, then," she said, smiling at Frank. "You'll wait for me?"

"Oh…sure," stammered Frank, hardly daring to believe his luck. Three o'clock came, and Frank waited by the janitor's closet for Harley to appear. He opened the door to check that she wasn't already inside, and came face to face with the Joker.

"Just checking the…uh…mops," said Joker, nodding at the pile of them in the corner. "Geez, you'd think with all the chemicals in here, this place would be a lot cleaner. Still, some of these should be fun to play with, huh, Frankie?"

"Yeah…sure," said Frank, slowly. Harley appeared around the corner, smiling at Frank. Her smile fell when she saw the Joker.

"Mr. J, what are you doing in the closet?" she demanded, hands on her hips.

Joker grinned. "Oh, just confirming the audience's suspicions all these years," he chuckled.

"What audience?" asked Harley.

"It's a joke – never mind," muttered Joker.

"Well, I guess there's no reason you can't be here for this," said Harley, shrugging, as she reached into her bra. "I just wanted to give Frankie my shopping list. See if he can pick up a few things for me."

"Shopping…list?" repeated Frank. It wasn't at all what he'd been expecting.

"Just a few bits and bobs," said Harley, nodding. "That I can wear, later on, y'know," she said, winking at Frank.

Frank stared at the list. "N…nurse's outfit?" he stammered. "Fishnets…"

"Hey, it's a private list, for your eyes only!" interrupted Harley, furiously. "No need to spoil the surprise! Just get what I wanna, and you'll be…rewarded for it," she purred, running a finger down his chest. "How about it, Frankie baby?"

"Sure thing…Harley," he gasped.

"What are you still doing here, Mr. J?" asked Harley, turning to him. He was glaring at her furiously.

"Just…getting some chemicals," he muttered. "For my escape attempt. Why doncha help me carry these, Harl? They can be heavy."

Harley grinned at Frank. "See you later, Frankie baby," she breathed, following Joker back to his cell.

"Harley…" he began, angrily.

"I'm just doing what you told me, puddin'," she interrupted, innocently. "Flirting with the guy, keeping him keen to work for you. You're not jealous, are ya?"

"Jealous?" repeated the Joker, offended. "I'm the Joker, toots! I don't get jealous! I'm the best possible guy in the whole wide world, and any dame who's too dumb to see that ain't worth my time!"

Harley twirled a strand of hair around her finger. "I wonder if Frankie knows how to make a woman feel special," she murmured, grinning at Joker. "I wonder if he knows how much I like being treated like a bad, bad girl. Maybe I'll tell him."

"Yeah, keep playing the game, toots, just like I told ya," said Joker, nodding. "No skin off my nose."

But somehow, he didn't feel like smiling.

A few nights later, the Joker received a message from Harley asking him to visit her. He opened the door to Harley's cell and froze in shock.

"Oh! Mr. J!" exclaimed Harley, turning to grin at him. "What a surprise! We weren't expecting you, were we, Frankie?"

Joker's shock wasn't just at seeing Frank Boles in Harley's cell – it was also at seeing the outfit Harley was wearing. It was a modified nurse's outfit, with a red corset, and a top low enough to reveal the top of her purple and red bra. Her white skirt was just short enough to cover her underwear, but not when she bent over, and she wore black fishnets underneath huge, purple and red boots, with a black mask over her eyes.

"You…ain't wearing that to the party!" said the Joker, firmly.

"What? Why not?" asked Harley, frowning. "I think it's really sexy. What do you think, Frankie?" she asked, bending over slightly to show off the outfit.

"I…I think…" stammered Frank, his mouth hanging open. "I think…"

"I don't think he's got enough blood left in his brain to think," said Harley, grinning. "I think it's all gone straight to his…"

"Harley, I forbid you to wear that to the party!" shouted Joker.

"You don't own me!" she shrieked. "I'll wear what I wanna! Frankie likes it, and that's good enough for me!"

Joker glared at him. "Get out," he growled. "I'll give you your orders in a bit. And you'd better follow them to the letter."

"Do a good job, Frankie, and you can do a good job on me, if you get what I'm saying," breathed Harley.

Frank nodded and left. "What, Mr. J?" asked Harley, looking at his furious face. "What's the matter? Jealous?"

The Joker looked like he was about to say something, but then thought better of it. "Do whatever the hell you want," he growled. "I got a party to plan. And you'd better do your part."

"Don't you worry about me, puddin'," she said, smiling at him. "I'll be a good girl."

The Joker had too much on his mind to be bothered with trivialities like Harley flirting with another guy. He had an escape to execute, and trap to plan, both of which went perfectly. During his escape, and his subsequent showdown with Batman at the mayor's office, he didn't once think about Harley. Nope, not once, he reassured himself, as Batman drove him back to Arkham in the Batmobile. Not once when he was talking to the mayor about clown car parking (Harley and he had an intimate joke about that). And not when Batman was punching the crap outta him, as Harley had many times before. And certainly not now, when the gates to the Intensive Treatment wing opened, and Frank Boles strapped him to the portable, full body restraint, something he had lovingly tortured Harley on before. Not once, he assured himself, as Batman followed him through the Intensive Treatment facility and into his trap. Not once. He was far too busy putting on a show to spare a thought for that useless waste of space.

But she did what she had been instructed to do – she had taken over the security system, controlling who went in or out of the asylum. She had kidnapped Warden Sharp, and shown Batman what she had done. Although she was still wearing that hideous outfit, thought Joker, with some degree of annoyance. He didn't like insubordination in his ranks. And she didn't hesitate to flirt a little with Warden Sharp and Batman, to add insult to injury.

But the trap was going beautifully. No time to think about annoying women when such a brilliant masterstroke of manipulation was being performed. He was in control of the asylum, just as he was in control of everything. He played Batman like a violin, sending him on his merry way like a rat in a maze. Frank Boles had played his part too, murdering his colleagues, and clubbing Commissioner Gordon, and taking him hostage, so that Batman would follow him and Harley wherever he felt like sending them on the island. Yes, the Joker was the master of ceremonies, with complete power over every aspect of the…

"You're some piece of work, Frankie," came Harley's voice on the radio, suddenly. "A girl could fall for someone like you."

Joker seized the intercom, his completely light-humored commentary suddenly punctured by an irritated, "Stop flirting with the hired help, Harley!"

"Don't worry, sweetie," purred Harley back at him. "You know I only have eyes for you."

Joker checked the CCTV monitors which were recording Harley and Frank's progress. They were at the exit of the Intensive Treatment facility, taking care of the rest of the Arkham guards. Once they were dead, Harley signaled to the henchmen to take Gordon over to the Medical Facility, leaving her and Frank alone. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but suddenly Frank leaned over and pinched Harley's ass.

It was the final straw for the Joker. Nobody touched his property but him. It was a matter of principle, not affection. He started up and raced over to Intensive Treatment. Frank had suddenly outlived his usefulness.

He waited impatiently for the Intensive Treatment doors to open. "Harley!" he shouted, storming inside.

But he froze. Harley was humming to herself while she calmly spray painted a big green smile around Frank Boles's mouth. He was locked in the full body restraint, and he was very clearly dead.

"Hi, puddin'!" she exclaimed, beaming at him. "What kept ya?"

"What…what's going on?" said the Joker. "He's meant to take you to Medical…"

"Ah, the boys have gone on ahead with Gordon," said Harley. "I thought I'd stay here and put the finishing touches on your surprise. Ta da!" she said, stepping aside. "What do you think?"

A sign reading _Dead End_ had been strapped onto Frank's body, and three sets of chattering Joker teeth circled it. "I made it just for you," she said. "And you were right, the punchline was a lot sweeter 'cause of all the flirting - just see the look on his face! I know we were gonna kill him together anyway, but I thought it was better to do it sooner rather than later, what with Batsy tracking his alcohol trail and all," said Harley, calmly. "Plus he pinched my ass. Pig."

She studied the Joker's stunned face. "Doncha like your surprise, puddin'?" she asked, concerned.

The Joker grinned. "Like it?" he repeated. "I love it, you clever little minx!" he said, seizing her in his arms and kissing her. "Oh, you know there's nothing like a joke involving puns, paint, and death to put a smile on my face!"

"I sure do, puddin'!" she exclaimed, beaming.

He kissed her again. "You know now that you mention it, Harley, that is quite a sexy little outfit," he growled.

"Mmm, I thought you'd like it," she whispered. "I got it for you, so I can be your naughty nurse."

"You know, after Daddy plays with the Bat a little, he'll probably be in the mood for playtime with his Harley girl," he whispered. "Maybe after the party?"

"I can't wait, puddin'," she said, grinning.

He kissed her, putting his arm around her and escorting her away from the body. "C'mon, kiddo. Let's head to Medical and wait for Batsy. I know he'll enjoy the surprise just as much as I did!"

**The End**


End file.
